Marking Day
by lizardwriter
Summary: 10-year-old Lexa goes through the Marking Ceremony to get her war paint pattern. Hints of Lexa/Costia. Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show. Just borrowing them.


Deep breath.

In. Out.

Another one.

In. Out.

It wasn't working. Lexa's hands were still shaking. Her whole body, actually, was worked up into a sort of nervous quiver. She needed to calm her tremors or Anya might deem her unready, or worse, unworthy. Lexa couldn't imagine anything worse than that. She'd trained for so long. She'd worked so hard. Today was the day! Today she was ten. Today she would get her Mark and become a proper warrior of the tribe. After today she would be able to go into battle.

"Ready?"

Lexa jumped, then relaxed as she turned and saw who had interrupted her preparations.

Costia let out a giggle and approached her calmly. "Nervous?"

Lexa frowned. "No! A warrior is never scared. A warrior does what needs to be done."

"A warrior is strong. A warrior stands up for her people. I know, I know, but not every warrior is groomed to lead someday and I'm nervous and my Marking Day isn't until next month."

Lexa sighed. She could never lie to Costia. They were too close. She knew her too well.

"Come on, let me help you get dressed. You know you're ready. There's not a boy or girl in training that you can't beat in a fight."

It was true. Anya had trained her well. Lexa could take on anyone when they were just sparring, but today she'd have to show off her skills before the whole tribe and Anya would expect perfection. Costia wasn't wrong that she was being groomed to lead.

Costia helped her into the ceremonial outfit and Costia's presence served to put her a little more at ease. Her hands stilled as Costia finished lacing on her top and lifted the thick leather armor over her head. There was no quiver as Lexa pulled on her boots.

Costia stepped back to examine Lexa from head to toe. "You look ready."

"I am," Lexa declared, feeling much more confident of that now.

"Good luck!" Costia said before throwing her arms around Lexa's neck and placing a small kiss on her cheek.

Lexa didn't know what that was about, but she felt her heart race for a moment.

"I don't need luck. I have my training."

Costia sighed. "I know, but luck won't hurt you."

.

.

Anya's face was solemn. Her eyes held none of the usual traces of affection for Lexa. Lexa could feel the nerves coming back. She would never get her Warrior Marks if Anya saw her fear. She tried to remember Costia's words of comfort, but as Anya stepped towards her, all Lexa could think was that her heart was beating so loudly that surely Anya and everyone else must be able to hear it. Lexa felt it pounding in her throat. She tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. Her palms were clammy and she pretended to pat down her armor in an attempt to dry them.

"Lexa," Anya acknowledged her.

Lexa bowed her head.

In Trigedasleng, Anya addressed the tribe and began the ceremony. As Anya relayed the history of the Marking Day and the Warrior Marks, Anya closed her eyes and slowed her breathing.

Focus. She told herself. Breathe. Trust the training.

She visualized the moves she would soon make, willing her muscles to remember each movement. Each had been practiced over and over. Muscle memory alone should guide her through. She wanted to be perfect, though. She wanted Anya and everyone else to know that Anya was grooming the right fighter to be her second.

"Lexa," Anya addressed her again.

Lexa opened her eyes and looked up into Anya's eyes. There was still no affection there, but there was a confidence that made Lexa all the more determined to do well. "Are you ready to become a warrior?"

"I am," Lexa declared, her conviction overwhelming the slight waver in her voice.

"Are you ready to defend your people with your life?"

"I am," Lexa repeated.

Anya continued through the questions, and each time Lexa replied in the affirmative, her voice growing stronger and her anxiety fading.

"Show us." Anya instructed.

Lexa took her starting position, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began the demonstration. Her movements were swift and strong. Her technique was sharp and, when the time came, her aim was true.

A small smile crept across her lips as she held her final position. She straightened, turned back to Anya, and bowed.

"A warrior is rising, but a warrior needs a mark. Kneel and prepare to receive your mark."

Lexa knelt, her chest swelling with pride. She had done it. There were no falls, no trips, no nerves. She WAS a warrior.

Anya stepped forward as another member of the tribe brought her the bowl of black paint. It was specially mixed with a combination of berries, ash, and water. Today, an additional ingredient would be added.

Anya produced a curved knife from her ceremonial outfit. Its handle was intricately carved and the blade was polished and sharp when it was unsheathed.

Lexa held out her hand, unafraid. She knew what was expected and she did not fear pain.

Anya's eyes met hers as the blade sliced across Lexa's palm. Lexa didn't flinch. She barely felt the sting as she formed a fist and let her blood drip into the bowl.

Anya set the knife aside and opened Lexa's hand. She took a long swatch of black fabric and wrapped Lexa's hand, tying it tight. Then she picked up the bowl of paint and mixed Lexa's blood in.

"Close your eyes," Anya instructed, and Lexa thought she detected a rare hint of emotion in her voice.

Lexa felt sticky, damp fingers press against her skin, tracing across her temple and her cheek bones. She felt quick swipes down with something colder than a finger and then she felt gentle swipes across her closed eyelids and all around her eyes. She felt the process repeated on the other side of her face, then felt cold metal pressed into her forehead between her eyebrows. She tried to envision what it would look like.

"Rise, Warrior Lexa. Stand before your tribe. You have been marked."

Lexa opened her eyes and looked up into Anya's face. There was the faintest hint of a smile on Anya's lips and a glimmer of pride. Lexa felt her own lips curl up in response.

"Stand," Anya coaxed again, more quietly.

Lexa stood and turned slowly in a circle, presenting her marks to the tribe. She felt her chest welling with pride. She was a warrior now. A true warrior. She was worthy. She turned back to Anya, who was holding the knife again.

Anya held up the knife so that the flat of the blade faced Lexa and Lexa saw her marks for the first time in the polished metal. Her eyes gleamed as she took in her new look. It looked fierce. It looked...right. It FELT right. She felt whole.

Lexa's eyes met Anya's again, and Anya nodded her approval. She held the blade out to Lexa.  
"This is yours now."

Lexa's eyes widened at the gift. She took it gingerly and felt the weight distribution. It was well-balanced. She ran her fingers tenderly over the blade and felt the sharpness slit the top layer of her skin. The carved handle was beautiful and fit perfectly in her hand.

"Thank you," she murmured, aware that people were dispersing around them now that the ceremony was over.

"Well deserved," Anya replied before people began to approach to congratulate Lexa and Anya disappeared in the crowd.

Lexa nodded her appreciation of the congratulations, accepting the responsibility as people stated the standard, "Defend us well."

She heard a familiar voice that brought a smile to her face and then a small figure pushed through the crowd around her and threw her arms around Lexa's neck.

"You did so well! I'm so proud of you!"

Lexa felt embarrassed at the public display of emotion, but she couldn't help feeling just a bit happier, too, that Costia was beside her and proud of her.

"Get off," she muttered, wiggling in the embrace.

Costia complied, but didn't move away. Instead she stood beside her through the rest of the congratulations, beaming proudly. Every once in a while Lexa would catch her eye and have to smile.

Before long the crowds dispersed and Lexa and Costia were left alone. They headed back to Lexa's quarters and Costia helped Lexa out of the ceremonial armor.

"Warrior Lexa. How does it feel?"

"Right," Lexa replied.

"How long until Anya makes you her second?"

Lexa shrugged. It wasn't set in stone, but most people expected it to happen."If it happens...maybe in a year."

"They say you'll be our next Commander."

Lexa contemplated the title. "Not soon. The title is only passed on by death and I'm still too young."

"But you would?" Costia asked, and Lexa heard a twinge of concern in her voice that almost made her want to answer no.

"I must defend and protect our people."

Costia nodded. It was clear from her expression that she had expected the answer. She studied Lexa for a long moment until Lexa was forced to look away. Then Lexa felt a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Just remember to protect yourself, too, Lexa."


End file.
